A Slip
by TheFutilitarian
Summary: A mostly light-hearted bit of fun - what happens when a slip of a hand sets off an unexpected chain of events? Mirana / Alice, implied/actual femslash.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** this story is purely for fun and very tongue-in-cheek. This idea came to me as one of a pair and the other one I'll write as soon as I finish up with numerous ongoing stories. As, I've already got a couple of serious Malices on the go, this one came out as a bit of light relief from that. It pokes a bit of fun at a few things, no harm is ever intended, and it really isn't meant to be taken too seriously at all. I am several chapters into this already so hoping to make fast work of wrapping this up...though let's see how that goes.

Also, I just wanted to take this opportunity to say a great big thanks to everyone who has generously left me comments for Mirana of Marmoreal / Alice Kingsley and Parting. I've really appreciated the feedback – it's kept the muse studiously productive (well, more than she normally is as standard). So this one is for all of you – you guys rock.

Prologue

The fabric of time is a blank canvas. Onto this canvas, God, or a mythical being, or science, or whoever takes your fancy really, paints a series of lines. Each line is perfectly parallel, never intersecting, always spaced some distance apart. Each one represents ourselves – a choice, a decision, the road taken, one not. Perhaps several, depends on the choice really. Now if you can imagine how many decisions you've already made today (yes, you that didn't have breakfast or sneaked that Egg McMuffin), you'll understand that that's some load of work. And it doesn't take any stretch of imagination to understand that whoever tirelessly works on drawing our universes might, in fact, actually get rather tired.

A slip of the hand is a funny thing – it's probably better than one of a tongue, infinitely better than one of the mind, but in the grand scheme of things can still have some pretty dire consequences. It's why not all the lines are precisely parallel, why some of them have a kink, a wobble, an outright curve. That in itself isn't so bad – it's a little less pretty, probably makes the one that made them frown a little; if he or she is a perfectionist, that is. But don't worry, it doesn't affect you. So if you are walking home tonight and suddenly veer off to the side, please don't blame the artist – your inability to walk in a straight line is not their fault. No, where the danger really lies is that the lines must never intersect, mustn't even get close. For there is only one rule that the fabric of time must follow – the paths of our different selves should never cross. For we already question, rethink the things that we have done, so faced with what could have been or what might never be, who knows what our current selves could possibly become? Except probably not our current selves but that's a separate story, one that I'll tuck away to tell another day.

Unfortunately, like most of our choices, the painted lines can never be erased. Once drawn, however clumsily, they may as well be set in stone. So that leaves possibilities, chances, and opportunities just waiting for what most deem improbability – a rift. A tear in the fabric of the canvas which somehow leaves little space between the lines, or even worse, allows the two to touch. Now, before you start panicking, take a deep breath (or as many as you need) – _we_ are safe. Our minds don't conceive of such ideas, and more importantly, our mortal tools would struggle to create such rifts. But there are worlds, universes and magics which have no trouble causing such a thing.

This is precisely the story of such a place, such a universe, such magic.

Just as explained, it all starts with a slip.


	2. Chapter 1

The day began as any other morning, as typical mornings tend to do. Mirana reviewed her lists of tasks, hummed in irritation at its length, and set out to complete her chores. An audience with the court – long, tedious, drawn out. There really wasn't a word to properly describe how much she hated such a thing. So she spent its length coming up with new ones, disconcerted to find that even her normally inventive mind wasn't able to come up with anything just quite appropriate enough.

Task 55: Ask Alice to come up with long winded word to describe my boredom.

Having scratched a note in her scroll, feeling rather pleased to have come up with such a grand idea, she found herself being stared at by several sets of eyes. Which is when she realised she was grinning like a fool. "That will be all today. Dismissed," she airily waved her hand. The resultant shuffle of feet distracted Mirana from having to think on why spending time with Alice should make her smile quite so…enthusiastically.

"Your Majesty, really," Nivens tugged at his collar. "I mean, please, is it possible you could at least pretend?"

"Pretend what?"

"That you are here!"

Playing dumb, Mirana glanced around, her fingertips brushing the skirt of her dress. "Am I not here, my dear McTwisp? That certainly is a grievous notion. I wonder then, where am I? Or more importantly," her fingers fluttered to point at herself, "who is this?"

Had she known the events that would occur shortly, she may have chosen not to jest, at least not about this topic, but as the saying goes – ignorance is bliss; though in this case and many others, truly…not so much.

Pulling his ears flat with his paws, Nivens hopped up and down before announcing, "That is it. Really, that is absolutely it! I quit. And this time, I mean it. Ever since that insufferable girl came here, you have become more and more like her every day – dreamy, irresponsible and just downright…NOT THERE….Arrggghh!" Throwing the royal trumpet onto the floor, he stormed out. Well hopped out, technically. But that's far less dignified a description than the stateliness his hop conveyed.

The melodious tinkle of Mirana's laughter was interrupted by a far less elegant snort. "You shouldn't spy you know. It is…irresponsible." Mirana turned round, waggling her finger in admonition; both women bursting into another round of merriment as Alice fully emerged from within the hidden passageway which led into the throne room.

Once they both sobered a little, Alice questioned with more than a hint of anxiety, "He will come back, won't he?"

"Oh yes," Mirana's eyes twinkled both her amusement and certainty. "He quits at least every other week over something or rather. Just between you and I," she leaned in close to where Alice had come to perch on the arm of the throne and lowered her tone to a whisper, "I think Nivens considers me a little less regal than a queen should be."

Alice chuckled again. "I like you as you are. I think you are perfect." As if realising the possible implications of what she'd said, she blushed and clarified with a stammer, "A-as a q-queen, I mean."

"Of course, what else is there?"

The trickle of warmth that spread upon Alice's innocent statement could have been attributed to the heat of the girl's breath which, given their proximity, almost bathed Mirana's lips. Or perhaps a different kind of heat – the one the blonde's fetching crimson cheeks now radiated. But Mirana was not a very good liar (at least to herself), so she knew that the cause of the spreading warmth was due to neither of these things. But Alice was…Alice and Mirana was…Mirana, and also queen, so every time she glimpsed the elusive hint of what she had so desperately been yearning for her entire adult life, she reminded herself that who she was, _what_ she was, meant that it must remain simply that…a dream.

Ignoring what appeared to be a shadow of disappointment flitting through Alice's eyes (most likely wishful thinking), Mirana continued, "Now, Alice, there's something important that I must ask you to do. Or, more precisely, ask you not to do."

Now generally when someone says that to you, it is a _really_ good idea to pay attention; even better one to actually fulfil the person's request. But then, of course, if one is too busy comparing the speaker's eyes to pools of the thickest dark chocolate (one of the sappiest most ridiculous comparisons ever made) and wondering if their lips could possibly taste as sweet as the plums they are the colour of (okay, I take it back, that's even more ridiculous), then one might really miss the point said speaker is trying to convey.

Which is exactly what happened as Alice raptly gazed into Mirana's eyes, then watched her moving lips. Said speaker should have noticed and repeated herself but then she was far too wrapped up in trying to act completely nonchalant, so in all that feeling and the pretence of not, a very important point went astray. "So till later, Alice. Please, keep in mind what I just told you." Having finished giving what she thought was a set of clear instructions, Mirana floated out of the room towards the kitchen; leaving behind a somewhat confused, but rather uncaring of this fact, Alice.

If she _had_ even cared even half as much as she cared for Mirana, Alice would have listened, or at very least admitted to the straying of her thoughts. Had she done so, the accident would have very likely been avoided, although to be really honest, it was not an accident at all. For truly, very few things in life just spontaneously happen, certainly not when one has been warned, and not for the first time, either. But let us proceed onward and not allow this story to degenerate into some form of a moral or a lecture, or heaven forbid – a blame game of whose fault (*cough* Alice's *cough*) it really was.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This chapter is dedicated to onyx-worrystone (especially the last paragraph) who loves Mirana…entirely too much!

Mirana stood at the table carefully mixing her most dangerous potion – the one she only brewed once a year for not was it the most potent, requiring just a tiny drop to do its job, but closest to being truly fitting of the title of her arts, Dominion over the Dead. As she stirred methodically, she pondered the irony of giving someone a drop of something which essentially killed them, to cure them instead. (Yes, one probably shouldn't start thinking of too much when one is handling such lethal ingredients but, to her credit, Mirana was an expert and this whole fiasco hardly rested upon the errant turn of her thought) All that was left was a tiny bit of _evol_ to drop in. Well, _all _may be an unfair understatement – it happened to be the most powerful, albeit common, element; one that could have many a different effect.

It's probably worth revealing about now that Mirana always brewed several things at once. For a start, there was that whole expert thing which I've already mentioned, but the real truth was – she was also cursed with being just a tad…impatient. As much as she enjoyed the time spent here in her private domain, sometimes the enforced isolation got a little too much, even for her. Especially when there was a certain winsome blonde with whom spending time was proving to be infinitely more pleasant lately. But back to Mirana's art – Dominion over the Dead – as you can imagine hardly the brews of over the counter medication, so each simmering pot that neatly lined up over a tiny flame contained potions that, to put it mildly, should never be mixed.

And they wouldn't have been, not on any given day apart from, yes you've guessed it, this one. A tad predictable, I must admit, so I should probably apologise. I promise to try and do a little better with the rest.

As her hand gathered a pinch of _evol_, the pristine white doors (the stains from March Hare's 'cooking' requiring an almost daily scrubbing) crashed open and Alice tumbled through them at considerable speed. Following on her heels was Tarrant, both chasing her and holding onto his hat. Winding around them was Cheshire – rumbling, purring and generally eagerly spurring them on with the shouts of, "Almost there! Nearly got 'er!"

Mirana's immediate concern was for Alice and her safety – bless – it took precisely less than an instant to take in her laughing visage and ascertain that. Mirana's second thought was much less kind as anger, technically rage, instantly fired through her veins. Did she really ask so much of everyone? Did her one small request truly mean nothing at all? Her next thought was a little too late, coming last as it did last in her mind instead of first, like it probably should have done. Although if it had come first, Mirana wouldn't be Mirana. At least not this one. But that's getting a little too far ahead.

She tried to stand back as they rounded the counter but her foot caught in the under layer of the stupid crinoline dress. Not for the first time she cursed the burden of monarchy and all the trappings that went along with that. Having but a moment's instant, she chose to spend it calculating everyone's trajectory which she did, if I may say so, admirably well. Except she didn't account for one very important variable – Alice and Tarrant – who, of course, attempted to do the very same. Had she not been slightly teetering off-balance, Alice's weight might not have proved a decisive thing. She wasn't that tall and fairly slender and Mirana was stronger than she looked. However combined with Tarrant on her heels and Mirana's questionable balance, all three of them came together in a tangle, knocked against the counter, and went sprawling to the floor in a fairly awful mess of limbs.

You know when a feeling of dread instantly washes over you? Mayhap you've forgotten a birthday, arrived late for a job interview, realised you've left the stove on, that sort of thing? That was exactly what happened to Mirana as she glanced upwards from her position, saw the rising bubbles where none should have been and quickly glanced down at her hand. Of course she already knew the answer, but wishing and praying otherwise (as you do when you know things have gone oh so terribly wrong), she checked. To be sure, her left hand, the one that had held the _evol_ prior to the encounter, was empty.

The angry bubbling noise grew louder.

O_h fudge_.

Okay, that wasn't really what she thought, not even close, but this is Underland and we should not forget that she is queen. So we will censor her a little, take pity; allow her the privacy of certain thoughts.

"Duck!"

It was probably just as well that everyone was already on the ground for the blast that shook the structure of the building rattled even the bleached white cobbled stone floor. A heavy purple mist descended over all of them, enveloped the entire room, until not only could they not see their hand in front of them but could only discern the sound of their own hacking cough. In retrospect, they should have probably enjoyed these few uncomfortable moments but at this point none of them yet truly understood what had occurred, what they were about to witness next.

Ever so slowly the mist began to dissipate but rather than becoming clearer, confusion thickened, for there on the floor in front of Alice, Chess and Tarrant now slowly dusting themselves off were not just one, not two, but three White Queens.

The one in the middle proclaimed immediately, "A-alice…umm, I mean…is everyone alright?"

The one on the left glared at Tarrant accusingly before angrily spitting out, "Didn't I kill you myself last week?"

The one on the right gazed at the other two in wonder before announcing with bemusement, "Wow, I am so much prettier than I thought."

Astonished, the other occupants examined them in detail then gazed at each other helplessly before Alice caught her lower lip between her teeth in consternation and muttered rather weakly, "Oops."

"Quite," followed Chess, or rather what was left of him, which was basically a questioning suspended brow.

Uncomfortable to find himself on the end of such unwelcome pointed attention, Tarrant clutched his hat a little tighter – protectively – his gaze flitting between the three Miranas nervously, before he croaked rather aptly, "Fez."

Yes, fez indeed, even though I know what some of you are thinking – would three Miranas really be worse than one? Well, visually, I would suspect most definitely not, but other things should be considered – those that the rest are finding out as we speak.


	4. Chapter 3

First of all, there was – let's call her Nice Mirana; no, not the Mirana that you are familiar with – she's not so nice. On the whole, she was just as we have tagged her – good-natured, kind, basically sweet. The real problem, if you want to call it that – there wasn't much substance underneath; Mirana's problem as she saw it – the Nice Mirana liked **her** Alice a tad too much. As she watched the other _her_ flutter her lashes, preen and simper, she clenched her jaw and ground her teeth. Which, of course, did not go at all unnoticed, and having witnessed it the Dark Mirana (no explanation necessary, I am certain) issued a most unladylike snort. "Oh, please." She rolled her eyes in disgust at our Mirana, "Her…really? She wouldn't last a day with me." Glancing at the Hatter as she spoke, she winked, raised a brow and suggestively ran her tongue over her lips.

Seeing Tarrant's frantic gaze, hearing his almost inaudible whimper, Mirana decided it was past time to assert control. "Enough." Once she was sure that she held everyone's undivided attention (truly, this time), she continued. "Please, let us all retire to our rooms. I must ask everyone for their utmost discretion, at least –" she faltered, "until we get to the bottom of all of this. I don't know where you have come from or how to get you back to –" she paused again, "wherever, but one thing's absolutely certain – Underland must only ever have _one_ queen."

"Well, I don't know why it can't be me," the Dark Mirana muttered irritably. "Perhaps we should have a vote?" the nice one chimed in. Pinching the bridge of her noise to try stave off the rapid onset of a headache, Mirana took a long deep breath, let it out slowly, and stated much more calmly than she felt, "Because _I_am this kingdom's rightful queen."

"Says who?" "But we are you," the others rejoined immediately and in her current state for Mirana that truly was enough. She snapped, "Says I. This is my Underland, I am Mirana, and neither one of you is me. So you will do exactly as I bid you." Almost as an afterthought, perhaps seeing the surprise in Tarrant's and Alice's faces at the previously unheard of acid tone, she quickly tacked on, "Please."

"Well, if I am to be cooped up like some sort of prisoner, I'd like a bit of company to pass the time. Tell me, Alice –" an oh so familiar finger wound the lacy tie of Alice's dress around it, "which one is _your _room?"

That really wasn't the smartest thing to do, not by a long shot, but then of course the Nice Mirana had only ever known the kindness of herself. Which was just as well, because upon her actions, she really did not want to be privy to Mirana's immediate flitting thought. Just to be kind in turn, and because this isn't that type of story, I'll spare you the knowledge of the darkness that reared in her mind but suffice to say it wasn't very pleasant, in fact, about exactly the opposite of that.

"That would be improper," Mirana bit out unevenly, allowing a hint of anger to glimmer in her eyes. "If you are unable to pass the time alone, you are more than welcome to share my room." Her haughty gaze unflinching, she looked into the Nice Mirana's eyes. Faltering under the weight of such a gaze, the other queen subsided quickly, weakly muttering, "On second thought, I'll be just fine by myself."

Nodding, Mirana waited till that treacherous finger unwound itself from within Alice's dress, telling herself it would be truly improper were she to rip it off; before smiling, cool demeanour in place, "Yes, that is precisely what I thought."

Raising an eyebrow in the other Mirana's direction, she received a smirk and a comment, "Don't worry, I am most definitely not interested in…that." She didn't need to clarify any further, they were the very same person after all, and she was certain that Mirana had understood.

She had indeed, and breathed an inward sigh of relief knowing how much easier it would be to deal with one, even though of course, she'd prefer it was none at all. "Then it is settled," gliding to the door, Mirana gazed both ways out into the hallway. "The guards are bound to be here shortly. There's only so long that they'll be prepared to wait. As a precaution, I always tell them thirty minutes, so that we can avoid the events that have happened…once before."

"Which were…?" Alice asked innocuously, being that she was entirely bemused – what with the numerous Miranas, their different personalities, but such utterly equal looks. Above all, being touched by someone other than Mirana and yet Mirana, exactly in the manner she'd longed to be treated in, for oh so very long.

Receiving an elbow for her efforts, Tarrant muttered not that quietly beside her, "You really don't want to know."

"Indeed," Mirana echoed in a murmur, her cheeks now stained with a light hint of a blush. "You two, please come with me," she indicated to the two Miranas. Seeing the way that Nice Mirana gazed at Alice and the way the blonde appeared to furtively return that look, she got as far as uttering, "Alice," so desperately wanting to dispense a warning, before she was struck full force by another fleeting thought.

What exactly would she say to Alice – _please do not like this other me_? Was it right to deny someone a happiness just because you weren't the someone that was sought? Even more, for all intents and purposes, was it fair to deny yourself? Was it the other Mirana's fault that she was nicer? Kinder? Gentler? Was that not, after all, the very reason Mirana herself had always held back – the knowledge that she wasn't the wholly sweet person that Alice so deserved? Painfully swallowing her tirade, Mirana blinked away the sudden tears at this sobering realisation. Seeing that Alice still gazed at her, she choked out, "Uh, I am sorry, it was…nothing, Alice. Please forgive me," she finished quietly and with complete sincerity. _For ever thinking you should have to settle for someone as flawed as me._

Perhaps she should not have been so noble – not have suppressed, instead confessing how she truly felt, but rest assured that you would also be a bit off kilter were you to be confronted by yourself. An arguably _better_ you, though as in most things that is a matter of opinion, and somehow I think that Alice is about to disagree.


	5. Chapter 4

Having gotten to her room, Alice read a book, wrote a letter than she was never going to send, and then just plain sat about twiddling her thumbs. Not used to being confined to such a small space, she quickly grew bored and decided to visit Tarrant as he was the only one that she could talk to, and holy heck were there a lot of matters to discuss.

She hadn't got very far before she turned the corner and quite literally ran into Mirana. Stumbling backwards from the force of the collision, she righted herself just in time to hear her say, "Weren't you instructed to remain in your room?"

"Well, technically yes," Alice mumbled, "but –" Of course, caught by Mirana's gaze, as always Alice found that she couldn't possibly lie. "I was bored," she shrugged her shoulders sheepishly.

"Yes," Mirana answered merrily, "the truth be told, I was as well."

Startled by the unexpected answer, Alice gazed a little more suspiciously but when she couldn't tell after a thorough examination, she conceded to voicing her question, "Which one are you?"

"Which one am – oh, I see," she grinned mischievously, "I am Mirana. Would you like to call me by another name? Though I must confess my given name is one I've held for quite a number of years, so if you pick another, I'm not sure that I'll remember to respond."

"N-no, that's alright," Alice stammered self-consciously, as ever blinded by the dazzling smile. "Um, I suppose –" before she had the chance to finish, they both heard footsteps and the sound of Mirana's voice.

"Damnation." Grimacing in annoyance, Mirana's gaze frantically sought out a place to hide.

"Come on," Alice whispered, grabbing Mirana's hand instinctively. "Quickly. I am in enough trouble as it is." Pulling her along, they barely made it to her room and shut the door behind them before the sound of the voices grew a little louder, Mirana eventually walking past.

As the voices faded into the distance, Alice laughed, "That was close," her breath still choppy from the rush of the near miss. As Mirana's laughter joined her own, Alice's faded slowly as she realised that she was still holding Mirana's hand. Again, conflicting feelings rose up within her – she liked Mirana, not this one, but this one was exactly like the other…and blast it, really…how was her body supposed to tell the difference, if even her mind didn't know?

_Perhaps if there was an obstacle between us_. Letting go of Mirana's hand, Alice moved to sit behind her writing desk. "Tell me, where you come from…I mean, you do come from somewhere, don't you? Do you have an, um, a…?" She wracked her brain trying to think of a suitable word.

"A companion?" Mirana's eyes twinkled again. "No, as it happens I do not." Leisurely, most boldly sweeping Alice up and down with her gaze, she made her interest crystal clear by following up with, "But then, of course, in my version of Underland there is no…you."

"T-there isn't?" Momentarily distracted, Alice pondered the notion of that thought. How strange that there was a place where she hadn't fallen down the rabbit hole. _Maybe I married Hamish_. Instantly shuddering at the mental mage such a thought produced, she felt a moment's pity for her other self then suddenly paled at the next realisation – _I might have never met Mirana_. The shiver that trickled down her spine brought with it a terrible melancholy – a feeling she couldn't shake even as she conjured happy memories of Cheshire, Hatter, Mallymkun, the Tweedles, Frabjous Day – the Jabberwocky's defeat.

"Is it very forward of me to tell you that I find you terribly…appealing?" Lost as she had been in her own distress, Alice had failed to notice Mirana gliding closer, the queen now standing right in front of her chair.

"I-I, well, I-I, uh," Alice blushed and stuttered, as the hem of Mirana's dress tangled with her own, unsure of what to say. This may have been a long-held fantasy, the subject of many a pleasant musing, but now that the moment was here (albeit with the wrong Mirana) – everything just seemed like a crazy weird dream. "I think –"

"Don't think." The touch of a delicate manicured finger stilled her lips. "What is the harm, Alice?" Up close, Mirana's dark eyes flashed blatant desire, her lips hovering mere millimetres from Alice's. "Just. One. Kiss."

Frustration, dejection, and anger overwhelmed Alice momentarily – she'd never have the real thing no matter how she wished it to be so. Mirana could not have made her feelings more clear so this Mirana was right, what exactly _was_ the harm in pursuing this? If this was all she'd ever have – one kiss, one taste, one touch – what did it matter who would give it? Her Mirana, another – weren't they essentially the same person, after all? At least this way she'd have a memory, something to cherish when this whole mess was cleared up, these other Miranas gone.

"Um, I've sort of never really done this," her gaze lowered to stare at her lap.

"All the better," Mirana's lips widened into a smile. "It would be an honour to be your first." Tilting Alice's chin upward with her finger, she closed the short distance between them, her mouth confidently settling on Alice's own.

The kiss wasn't what Alice had imagined it would be, not worse, just…not exactly what she'd thought. It wasn't so much that Mirana's lips dominated as that she was just so absolutely sure of herself. Almost immediately her tongue probed at the seam of Alice's lips, Alice tentatively granting it entrance. This time a rather pleasant shiver coursed through her instead of the earlier despondent chill. Maybe this was not so bad, really quite…nice. Just not…_how it would be with Mirana_, her mind offered up a sentence, Alice instinctively knowing that this was the elusive explanation that she'd sought. Planting her hand on Mirana's chest to gently separate them, she didn't quite get a chance to complete the action before the swing of the chamber door and an all too familiar voice interrupted her, "Alice, I don't know what you take me for if you think I am unable to tell –"

As they hastily and guiltily sprung apart, Alice's gaze was immediately drawn to Mirana who stood with her hand still clutching the handle of the door. Her face seemed to almost literally drain of its already pallid colour as she took in the scene in front of her. "I-I apologise," her murmur was stiff, "I didn't realise you had company. I thought –"

"Mirana ," _no no no_, Alice's heart screamed, as her mind raced through every scenario of to make this right. Settling for simply conveying her feelings with a gaze, she desperately tried to catch Mirana's with her own. But to her disappointment, Mirana's quickly flitted to the woman standing at Alice's side, her lips twisting into a bitter smile before she gave a cursory nod. Then jerkily spinning around, she quietly shut the door; leaving them alone without speaking another word.

Now I know I said this story was not constructed with a moral or a lesson, but if you gather but one thing from this tale – it's that all of us should really remember how to knock. Something Mirana has learned the hard way, I'm afraid, so let us softly tread along beside her – undoubtedly, she isn't in the best of spirits, and will probably appreciate our company after that.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** **Firstly, thank you for the constructive feedback I have received about it not being clear that there are alternate universe versions of Mirana. I will clarify in the next couple of chapters. I always appreciate constructive criticism/feedback and welcome more should anyone have any. (I am sure there is lots for grammar!)**

**Secondly, a great massive thank you for everyone who has commented without signing in. I have tried to search for you so I can send a personal thank you back but the search engine on this site isn't the best so figured would just give a mass thank you in this chapter – so, um, thank you – I really appreciate the feedback.**

As Mirana disconsolately trudged away from Alice's room, her normally fluid gait reflecting the utter chaos of her thoughts, she almost literally ran into Arianne – her main lady in waiting – who appeared to be fairing almost as badly herself. (By the by, if it seems as though there was a lot of running into each other, that isn't contrived and lazy storytelling, just fact. For whilst the corridors of Marmoreal were startlingly white, marking all clearly visible against their walls, their many blind corners made those who travelled their length, well…exactly that. Something Mirana disliked immensely but even with her wealth and magic couldn't fix, not without rebuilding the entire castle structure, and understandably even she could not find motivation or justification enough for this.)

Her eyes alighting on Mirana, Arianne's chin quivered, her eyes welled up and she started to sob. Throwing the queen an anguished look, she quickened her pace, not pausing or giving Mirana a due curtsy, and ran right past. Mirana frowned, not hardly for the failure of a curtsy – she welcomed but did not expect such a sign of respect – but because in all the time that she had known Arianne, she'd never seen her so upset; or at least so emotional in public – a quality which Mirana mightily appreciated – being that she was forced to always appear cool and calm herself. Trying to shake off the strangeness of the incident, quite frankly the entire day, she proceeded to walk on at pace. Almost immediately, Aurora – her second lady in waiting – rounded a corner, not only also failing to curtsy but throwing Mirana a curiously malicious look. Bewildered at this turn of events, Mirana could no longer restrain her curiosity and stopped to question, "Aurora, a moment, please. Have I done something to offend either Arianne or yourself today?"

Incredulous, Aurora paused and stared. "Well, I suppose, that would depend on your definition of offend. I understand that her majesty may not have woken up in the best of moods today but I was not aware part of our duty was to stand around while you called us lazy, incompetent and –" Aurora fairly bristled with rage as she finished, "Fat!"

Stunned, Mirana stammered, "W-when…Aurora, I-I would never –"

"Yes, I'd think it all some strange and crazy fantasy myself, except it happened but a short few minutes ago, your majesty. And as you can clearly see, "she pinched herself, finishing with a good dollop of sarcasm, "Unfortunately, I appear to be awake."

"Of course, you are." Mirana resisted the urge to burst out crying, scream or both. Several more choice murderous thoughts flitted through her head. "I can only offer my most sincere apologies, what I said was utterly inexcusable." She wondered how many more times in the nearby future she would be forced to end up saying precisely that. "However, there is an explanation, Aurora, I promise. It is just…I cannot offer it as of yet. You see –"

Aurora's gaze seemed to soften imperceptibly before she bit out, "No explanation is necessary, your majesty, I would imagine all of us have been exactly where you are. Of course, we would all like to know when you plan to take the necessary action so that you may once again become…yourself."

Startled, Mirana asked, "You know? This type of thing has happened before?"

Aurora's face seemed to dissolve into a reluctant smile, she smirking, "Does her majesty truly imagine that she is the first?"

"W-well, yes," Mirana frowned in puzzlement, "I would not think that any of you would have the magic for such a thing."

Now Aurora was the one that gazed in utter surprise, "You think that such feelings are exclusive to royalty alone?"

"What feelings?" Realising they weren't nearly talking about the same thing, Mirana clarified, "Aurora, what is it that you speak of?"

Gazing long and hard at the monarch as if weighing up her answer, Aurora eventually pronounced, "Why, your majesty, I speak of love."

"Love? I am not in love!" Mirana exclaimed, a little too quickly, fingers fluttering against her will. Horrified, she whispered, "Is that what the entire court believes?"

Lowering her own tone to match Mirana's, Aurora shrugged, "Of course, it isn't hard to decipher for anyone that knows you well enough. You've never been this way before, everything about the way you act tells us you're in love, what we don't understand is why you fight it. Mirana," Aurora unusually resorted to dropping the formality of her title, "surely you do not question that Alice wants you only for…yourself?"

"Of course not, what a ridiculous notion," Mirana snapped out angrily, her eyes involuntarily closing at Aurora's raised brow and pointed look.

"Then, please, your majesty, it is not my place to offer you advice on such a matter but I beg that you go and find the…comfort…that you seek. Your temper grows extremely trying and we would hate it were you to allow it to test the bonds of our love. Now I must go see to Arianne and convince her that you did not mean to say that she no longer held a place in Marmoreal's court."

"Thank you, Aurora. Please do, and please apologise to her on my behalf. I will see to it myself but for now there is another matter that I must take care of at speed."

Curtsying to Aurora in the manner normally afforded only to other royalty, Mirana marched along the corridors to where she knew she would find the other queen. Fuming at, well quite frankly everyone, she threw open the door to the dressing room chamber, taking a step over the threshold. She immediately stepped out again, pressing a thumb and a forefinger over her eyes, hoping against hope that this was yet another dream.

Well, actually a nightmare for just as in the previous chamber, _this_ Mirana and Alice also appeared to hastily spring apart.

"Mirana, wait, I can explain –"

Not allowing Alice to finish, Mirana yelled, "Not now, get out!"

"Mirana –"

"Not you," Mirana snagged the other Mirana as she glided past, "you and I have many things to discuss." Turning, her eyes dark with pain and fury, she bit out, "Alice, heed my words, I had better not find you outside your room again. Stay there, lock the door, and do not venture out. Should I encounter you anywhere in Marmoreal after this, you will not like the consequences. I mean it," her gaze heavy with things being left unsaid, she finished, "think very carefully should you decide to make the choice to leave."

"But Mirana, I –"

"But nothing! For once, Alice, can you not do a simple task as you are told? I grow weary of you disobeying me at every turn. Quite honestly, at times I find you worse than a wilful –"

Now here, as the impartial party, some of you are laughing gleefully whilst shoving popcorn in your mouth. Of course, those of you rooting for Mirana and Alice are equally as vocal – undoubtedly screaming for Mirana, no matter how hurt she is, to – for the love of all things holy – shut the hell up. Unfortunately, in real life – just as for the characters in our story – there is a pause but there is no rewind; and often we do not need for someone to finish their sentence in order to be able to glean what they had been about to say.

"C-child?" Alice finished bitterly, her breath hitching with her own welling hurt. "If that is really how you feel, then there's nothing more to say, is there, _your majesty_?" Her hand on the door knob, she turned, throwing Mirana one last look. "Should you require my _childish_ company, you should know exactly where to find me." Had the words not already been so utterly mocking, Alice's feelings would have been made even more reasonably clear by the eardrum splitting slam of the chamber door.

An action truly befitting a child but given her unfairly wounded sensibilities, this time Alice deserves to be cut a little slack. Especially as you are about to be privy to the disaster she just managed to prevent, something that Mirana is not aware of as yet. Something Mirana is probably never going to know unless Alice is the one that tells her for the Dark Mirana is somewhat…economical…with the truth. But let me not keep you in suspense and simply get right to it, by doing what Mirana is now longing for with all her heart – hit the button marked 'rewind.'


End file.
